The Dallas daily herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1887, 1887-05-12
BENSON'S CONCLUSION. !
BY ANGELO cRrpPEN-DAvIs.

ciple OF culture. 1t was his theory
that the highest order OF emotion and
affection. was only to be found asso-
ciated with cultivation. He believed
the superior forms ofheroism, self-sac-
riice and love, were impossible with
the rude, unlettered Masses" as he
expressed it. They might indeed ex-
ut, but the manifestations OF them
would be inferior in kind and minor
in degree.
Naturally, he had been born in Bos-
ton. Providence would have commit.
ted great error to have located him
anywhere else. Indeed, those who
knew Mr.. Benson best believed lie
would have declined opening his eyes
in another spot. He was slightly pes
simistic, and decidedly dyspeptic.
There is popular belief that the lat
ter includes the formerly And one
lay his physician told him there was
also some bronchial affection that the
climate OF his native New England az
gravated, and strongly advised him
to 90 south for the winter.
1t was late January when he found
himself in hotel in southern Georgia
This hotel was huge rambling affair
built OF frame with verandas running
round aboutit. The house was chiefly
filled with women and children. 1t
was kind OF sanitarium built in the
midst OF pine woods,
Whose balsamic perfumes carry healing
on their wings"
He walked out on the veranda. 1t
was February and an early spring
Some one had come in from the woods
with branches ofyellow iessamine now
in bloom. A child held some branches
in its hand. He leaned over and in
hailed the spicy fragrance OF the bios
SONS. The chid ran away SHY. He
looked after her halfinclined to call
her back He thought he would like
to have her talk to him, yet he did
not know what to say. He had never
known any children. While he was
standing there stout, red-faced man
came up to him in n way that Mr..
Benson would have considered odiLus-
ly familiar in Boston; here he rather
liked it,
Woodworking, good.mornng, sir, )"
said the stranger. Isn't your name
Bcnson?'
He admitted that it was in as cor
dial way as his natural stiffness
would permit.
"Well, my name is Hatch, Henry
Hatch, formerly OF Amherst, Mass.
! came from there over forty years
ago, when twas boy. used to
know some folks OF you: name up
there"
Then he sat socially down on the
upper step leading to the veranda and
began n conversation, in which Mr..
Benson, to his surprise, found himself
Joining with great ease.
The vonble Hatch soon proved, to
his own satisfaction at least, that the
Benson family and his own were old
acquaintance.
At the end OF hail nm hour Benson
found himself pledged to go the next
day with his new acquaintance on u
little trip up the Ocmulgee river, ito
see the aborigines," as Hatch put it..
The following afternoon, with an
alacrity at which he could not but
feel half ashamed, Mr.. Benson equip
ped himself for the journey. He even
waited his companions coming with
an Impotence that sat strangely on
one so studiously placid.
When Hatch arrived, he surveyed the
various articles OF luggage with an in
dulgent smile
ii don't see what you want 10 tote
that umbrella for" he remarked, at
the same time indicating the article
in question with outstretched finger.
al never travel without my umbrel-
la," replied Benson somewhat stiiliy.
"All right, suit yourself" said
Hatch, with the manner OF one who
kindly consents to forgive little lido
syncrasies on the part of his friends.
They were to travel by rail TO-,
and then take the boat up the river.
The first part of the journey occupied
but few hours. IL was nearly sun
set when they reached the little sta
ton. 1t was like the general run OF
country stations in the south-a long
wooden building with n group OF Loaf
ers on the platform, the track, with its
plistening steel rails. running between
the stretch OF inevitable pine trees.
To Mr.. Benson's utter consterna-
ton, he found they would be Obliged
to walk n trestle over the river, the
- Lo.... ..,nnrnl 20 the nfIl.laltn